


fight of my life

by angellwings



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, Long Shot, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: Yes, he’s supposed to be giving Sylvie space, and he is. Mostly. So what if he takes a little longer to check 81 after they get back from a call? He’s being meticulous about the details. It’s not in an effort to glimpse Brett as soon as 61 pulls in through the bay doors.He’s a terrible liar. Even to himself.“Captain!”He turns with brows raised and gets the distinct feeling that his hovering is about to backfire.“Lieutenant,” he says, nodding politely toward Grainger. “You’re a little far from 40, aren’t you?”“Uh, yeah,” he says, sheepishly. He cranes his neck around the app floor and then eventually focuses on Casey. “Your ambo must still be out, huh?”Casey nods and restlessly shifts his weight. “Yeah, they had to stop by headquarters. Might be a while.” He doesn’t actually know how long they’ll be so it’s not a lie, but...not exactly the truth either.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 80
Kudos: 229





	fight of my life

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** I knew an author in the Timeless fandom who told me once that she liked to write fanfiction while a show was currently airing so she could figure out how her OTP would get together from whatever point they left off in the latest episode. She knew it was never going to happen that fast but that didn’t matter. 
> 
> And that’s kinda what this fic is. It’s partially a 904 predict it fic based on Promo Photos and one new character name (Greg Grainger, really? They couldn’t do better than that?) but it’s also the quick fix we all know Derek won’t give us, lol. 
> 
> Angst with a QUICK Happy Ending.
> 
> Hope you like it! It’s LONG. 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

******

_“So yeah, it's a fire,_

_It's a goddamn blaze in the dark,_

_And you started it._

_You started it._

_So yeah, it's a war,_

_It's the goddamn fight of my life,_

_And you started it._

_You started it.”_

_-“ivy” by Taylor Swift_

_******_

With one glaringly obvious disappointment, the last few weeks have been very good to her. She has a great new partner who learns fast and cares deeply about the job — one with staying power this time. Sylvie has a good feeling about Mackey. She likes her.

There’s a guy in her peripheral vision who’s made it clear he’s interested in her (who isn’t hung up on his ex as far as she knows). Not that she’s had time to really stop and ponder him too much. She just met him three days ago and she doesn’t even have his number.

And, last but not least, she somehow made a favorable impression on her new Field Chief.

The new Field Chief, Grant Stone, made her nervous. He hadn’t been at that last call when Ambo and Truck arrived.

The construction site had been chaos and Boden didn’t accompany them either so it was all on her. She made all the calls — ran triage, called the EMS plan, directed the ambos — until an Ambo Commander relieved her. A few minutes after the Commander relieved her of duty, Stone showed up.

He hovered around 61 as she supervised Mackey and tended to her own patients. He watched her like a very shrewd hawk. It was unnerving.

But afterward, as she and Mackey were loading up a patient with a head wound, he’d asked her to stop by his office at headquarters when they finished with their run. She assumed the worst and tried not to panic in front of Mackey, but internally she was in knots.

Her love life was already ashambles. Her professional one couldn’t be too.

But he’d surprised her. She’d knocked on his door and he motioned her to a chair. He inhaled deeply and let what she thought might be a smile form on his sharp face. 

Then he said, “I want you to start instructing at the Academy.”

And she’s been blinking at him in astonishment ever since. 

“Me, Chief?”

Oh, finally, some _words._

He nods. “And then depending on how that goes, I want to start talking about your path to Ambulance Commander.”

She knows her mouth drops open. She gapes at him like a strangled fish.

“You seem surprised.”

“I—I am, sir,” she replies, blinking rapidly. “I’ve been doing this job for years and no ones ever even mentioned—“

“I doubt anyone really stood back and watched you work,” he says, cutting off her concern with a dismissive scoff. “You follow regulations, you keep a cool head under pressure, you push the envelope only when absolutely necessary — those are qualities that are needed and should be highly valued in a paramedic but often get overlooked in the face of...charisma.”

A part of her worries he’s calling her dull and predictable, but the larger part of her understands exactly what he means. An overwhelming personality can overpower everything else. Like a charm offensive — a game Sylvie has rarely purposefully played.

All of her partners were known for their _charisma,_ as Stone called it. They were more dominant personalities. Plain and simple.

“It’ll take time,” Stone warns her. “But I have a feeling you’re not opposed to a little investment.”

She allows herself an excited grin as it finally hits her that this Chief is _serious_. He wants to help advance her career. _Truly_.

“No, I’m not. Thank you, Chief.”

He nods and his expression shifts from stern and observant to soft and kind. “I’m even tempered and logical myself. I hope you don’t think I was insulting you.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “No, I don’t. Thank you again.”

“I had someone put in the effort for me,” he explains. “I’m simply paying it forward. You have all the capabilities of a world class leader, Brett. It’s about time someone made sure you know it.”

They both stand and he moves around his desk to walk her toward the door.

“I look forward to working with you,” Sylvie says to him as she leaves.

She walks away with a huge smile on her face. Her second genuine full smile that week. The first was while responding to Lieutenant Grainger’s not-so-subtle attempts to flirt with her on that accident scene three days ago. She hasn’t had much cause for full smiles lately. Not since she and Matt…

No, stop, don’t go there. Pull it together and get back to work. _Work_ will save her.

Mackey’s is waiting in the ambo when Brett returns, a single brow quirked expectantly. “You good?”

Brett beams at her and nods. “Beyond good. I’m great.”

Mostly. Mostly great. And that’s progress, right?

“Oh, spill, girl. I need the details!” Mackey asks as Brett turns the key and starts the rig. 

“No big deal. They just want me to start teaching at the Academy sometime soon,” Brett informs her with a deceptively casual shrug. “And start grooming me for Ambulance Commander.”

Brett pulls onto the road as Mackey gasps and cackles loudly, excitement and pride shining in her eyes.

“No big deal?” Mackey asks in a raised voice. “Brett! That’s _bad ass!_ You should definitely be an AC! A stone cold slayer like you would _kill it_ in a leadership role! Yes, queen!”

“It’s not a for sure thing,” she replies, trying to calm her young partner down. “And it might still be several years away but it’s nice to know it’s on the table, I’ll admit.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to tell Joe—“

“Please don’t,” Sylvie asks, biting her bottom lip. “Let’s keep this between partners, okay?”

Gianna gives her a knowing look, far too knowing for how short a time they’ve ridden together, and asks, “you mean between partners _and Stella_ , don’t you?”

Brett chuckles and nods. “Exactly. Just the women of 51. I don’t want anyone getting their hopes up. I have a lot of work to do before I get there.”

Mackey nods. “Understood. I’ll keep it to myself.”

“I would appreciate it.”

Everything in her life now is good. Okay, not everything. Not what’s going on with Casey, but he was truthfully never hers to have so it shouldn’t matter. Her life is still essentially the same with or without him.

She has friends, an amazing job that she loves, and her romantic options are far from tragic. That’s more than enough. Her future has promise and she can make it whatever she wants.

She _should_ be ecstatic. With everything else being so good it should be easy to put it all behind her and move on. There are other fish in the sea — other men in Chicago. Any one of them could potentially love her. Any one of them could assure her they weren’t in love with their exes and could make her a priority.

The world, or maybe just Chicago, is her oyster and she can pick and choose what she wants it to be.

She wants to feel giddy about that.

But instead all she feels is heartbroken.

Because no matter what she tells herself she knows deep down she _can’t_ “pick and choose”. If she could, she’d pick Matt. All the time, every time. She denies it to anyone who suspects. Denying it keeps it from being real, and her true feelings for Matt _cannot_ be real. It’s not that she doesn’t love Matt, it’s that _she can’t_. Because he doesn’t love her. So, while she’d choose him, it’s painfully obvious that he wouldn’t choose her.

For the life of her, though, she can’t make herself forget him — she can’t move on. A part of her still holds out hope he’ll find some way to turn it around. She misses him desperately and her entire body, inside and out, _aches_ to kiss him again. She hates herself for it, but it’s true.

The sad fact is, no romantic option will help her move on because there is no moving on from Matt Casey.

******

Yes, he’s supposed to be giving Sylvie space, and he is. Mostly. So what if he takes a little longer to check 81 after they get back from a call? He’s being meticulous about the details. It’s not in an effort to glimpse Brett as soon as 61 pulls in through the bay doors.

He’s a terrible liar. Even to himself.

“Captain!”

He turns with brows raised and gets the distinct feeling that his hovering is about to backfire.

“Lieutenant,” he says, nodding politely toward Grainger. “You’re a little far from 40, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, sheepishly. He cranes his neck around the app floor and then eventually focuses on Casey. “Your ambo must still be out, huh?”

Casey nods and restlessly shifts his weight. “Yeah, they had to stop by headquarters. Might be a while.” He doesn’t actually know how long they’ll be so it’s not a lie, but...not exactly the truth either. Jesus, he’s an asshole sometimes. “Anything I can help you with?” 

_Say no_ , Matt thinks as he attempts to keep his expression blank. He saw this guy flirting with Brett on their call a few days ago. He’s not stupid — or blind. He can’t blame Grainger for trying. Sylvie’s a knock out, even in paramedic’s trousers.

No, what Matt didn’t like...was seeing her flirt _back_. Yeah, he knows how that sounds. They aren’t dating. He has no right to stop her from seeing anyone. He knows that. That doesn’t mean he likes it. In fact, he’s fairly certain the tightness in his chest is a physical manifestation of his discomfort. 

His fingers tighten around his clipboard as he waits for Grainger’s answer.

“Yeah, actually,” he says, pulling out a business card and a pen from his pocket and scribbling his number on it. “Would you mind passing that along to Brett for me? I didn’t want to exchange numbers on the scene the other day and this is the first chance I’ve had to track her down. Just, uh, let her know my ringer’s on whenever she wants.”

Casey takes the card, nearly crushing it at those words. It’s a coincidence, he’s certain, but those words feel like they belong to him and Brett — no matter how long ago she said them.

“Got it,” he replies. “I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

Grainger waves in gratitude as he turns and heads back to where 40 is parked on the edge of the apron. “Thanks, Captain! See you around.”

Unfortunately it seemed he would. Grainger’s a decent guy, but decent doesn’t seem quite _enough_ for Sylvie. Not that it matters what _he_ thinks.

He was finishing up the last compartment when the Lieutenant showed up, taking his time in the hopes of seeing Brett, but now with a phone number intended for _her_ in his hands he wants to be done as quickly as possible. Gallo looks up, from where he’s cleaning the drains with atoothbrush, when Casey slams the last compartment door with as much force as it can take.

“You okay, Captain?”

“Did I say you could speak, Candidate?” He snaps.

He rarely snaps, but Gallo’s on thin ice as it is. The kid had the nerve to throw Casey’s own actions in his face after a reckless move on a call just hours earlier. Yes, he saved Mackey from potential injury but he could have been killed in the process and Matt wasn’t losing anyone else. Besides, reminding Matt of how crazed he was when he thought he lost Sylvie for good was _not_ the way to get out of trouble. He should know it’s do as your captain says, not do as your captain does. 

“Sorry, Captain,” Gallo replies, looking contrite.

A low growl slips past his lips and he shoves a hand through his hair before stomping inside the firehouse. He’s angry. But not at Gallo. Not at Grainger. Not even at Sylvie.

He’s pissed at _himself_.

He thunders into Severide’s quarters and makes himself comfortable on Kelly’s bunk with his feet extended out in front of him.

His friend turns with a curious glance. “I’m guessing, judging by the stomping, that you’re angry?”

Casey scrubs a hand over his face and then holds up Grainger’s card between two fingers on his other hand.

“I’m taking her messages from other guys.”

His hand still covers his eyes but he hears Severide suck in a wincing breath. “Ouch.”

“What am I doing?”

He mumbles it under his breath so he’s not surprised when Kelly asks him to repeat himself.

“I said, what _the fuck_ am I doing?”

Saying it again makes him angrier and louder.

“We came so close and now I’m — what? Her wingman?”

“She asked for space, remember?” Kelly reminds him. “It’s the best thing for her, your words.”

“Yeah, well, clearly I’m a jackass. What do I know?” Matt grumbles, opening his eyes to glare at Grainger’s card.

Severide keeps quiet. He knows Matt isn’t really looking for an answer or reassurances. What answer can he give, anyway?

“I know. I know what I’m supposed to do. _Let go and move on_. I’ve done it. A million times.” He laughs bitterly and shakes his head. “Over and over again every single person I love has in some way, shape, or form forced me to let go and move on. But what if I…”

He lets his sentence trail off and grounds the heels of his hands in his eyes. No, stop it. There is no sense going there. Sylvie’s comfort and happiness means more to him than his own. This is what she asked him for and he has to respect that.

Even though all he wants is to wrap himself around her and never let go — as sappy as that sounds.

Why does he always have to sacrifice what he wants? Will there ever be a day where his happiness matters? Yes, Sylvie asked him for space and Gabby seems like an insurmountable issue right now, but he can’t shake the feeling that he can fix it. He can set it right somehow if Sylvie will just _let him_.

“What if you what?” Severide prompts after several prolonged moments of silence.

“What if I don’t?” Matt asks, finally voicing the possibility out loud. “What if I refuse to let this — let her — go? What does that make me?”

Does it mean he’s a selfish bastard? Cause his old man was one of those and he refuses to ever be like him.

“It makes you a fighter, man,” Severide replies with certainty. “Which is what you already are but for other people. If you ask me, it’s high time you fight for yourself. If that means fighting for Brett — then do it. Tell her what you want.”

He’s tried that! Granted, not as firmly or as confidently as he should have. She makes him terrified in a ‘I could completely lose my heart to this woman’ kind of way and his brain shuts down — leaving him with answers like “I don’t know”, “I don’t regret it”, or “me too.” None of which tell Sylvie much of anything.

How is supposed to tell her when the words he thinks and the words he says refuse to coordinate?

“I make it worse everytime I open my mouth,” he admits, pocketing Grainger’s business card.

“You managed to state your case pretty clearly to me the other night.”

“Yeah, well, you’re Severide and she’s—“

 _Everything_.

He cuts himself off before the word slips out. Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe what he’s feeling. He knew he had deep, possibly huge, feelings for her but he wasn’t quite sure what they were or what they could be. With that one thought he knows.

He. Knows.

Mackey walks into the bunkroom headed for the lockers and Matt wastes no time vaulting himself off of Severide’s cot. If Mackey’s back then Sylvie is too.

“Gotta go,” Casey says as he dashes out of Severide’s quarters with a wave. Severide calls a goodbye after him but he barely hears it.

When he reaches the apparatus floor he finds Sylvie, clipboard in hand, counting gauze to herself.

He clears his throat to alert her to his presence. She tenses and then turns slowly. The wary look in her eyes cuts him deep. She almost looks afraid of him. He hates that.

“Hey,” she says slowly.

“Hey,” he parrots. “Can we talk?”

“I—Casey, we’ve already talked,” she says with a sigh that sounds both exasperated and devastated. She thinks she’s hiding what she feels. She isn’t. He sees all of it. Clear as day.

She’s as miserable as he is.

“Please,” he asks again, swallowing thickly and praying she’ll give him another chance to get this right.

She doesn’t say anything but she looks away from him and nods. She steps up into the back of the ambo and sits on the gurney before motioning to the bench seat across from her. He climbs in and shuts the doors to give them a bit of privacy.

He clears his throat awkwardly and pulls the business card out of his jacket pocket before he forgets. “Grainger stopped by looking for you.”

He holds the card out to her and she stares at the card and then him, her gaze switches back one more time before she mumbles a thank you and takes the card. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“It’s my own fault,” he tells her with a weak grin. “I was hanging around the app floor waiting for a glimpse of you.”

There’s no sound between them except the sound of her breath catching in her throat. A faint blush coats her cheeks as she nods. “Oh.”

“He’s a good guy, Grainger. He played in my community hockey league last year. He’s solid.”

What is he doing? Is he talking up his rival? He really _is_ a dumbass. Sylvie looks just as thrown by his comment as he feels.

“Did you...did you pull me aside to push me toward someone else?” She asks, her voice sounds lost and hurt.

See? Making it worse. Always making it worse. “No! No, I didn’t--I just…” he stops and blinks rapidly, water pooling in his eyes. His voice cracks over his first word so he lowers it and wills himself to calm down. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I’m ever going to want. So, if you decide to date him then you should know he’s a good guy. That’s all. It’s not that I particularly _want_ you to date him--or anyone--but that’s not really my call, is it? So, I thought for a second I’d just...be your friend.”

She clears her throat, but her voice still sounds thick with emotions when she speaks. “Okay.” The air around them fills with tension but he can’t tell what kind. Not until a second later when Sylvie shakes her head and then glares at him. “No, you know what? Not okay.” 

Angry tension. It was definitely angry tension. 

“I--I have plenty of friends, Matt. Yes, you’ve been a really wonderful one to me over these last few months but that’s never all you were. It was always more complicated than friendship. I think we both know that now, and yet somehow now that it’s out in the open you’re _even more confusing_ than you were before. And you were pretty hard to read before we kissed so that’s saying something. I can’t keep talking this issue in circles. I can’t tell what you want or where you stand and somehow that hurts worse than an outright rejection. It’s like you’re right there but I can’t quite reach you.” Her tone lowers and her voice thickens again, with unmistakable unshed tears. “Please just let it go. Let me go.”

That almost does it. He feels the crack that formed in his already badly patched up heart splinter and grow. The pain in her voice, the shine to her eyes -- they eat at him and make him itch to back off and give her all the space she wants. 

But after the realization he had earlier…

He won’t. _No_ , he can’t. She means too much to him to not try and fix this with every fiber of his being. He doesn’t just want her. He needs her. In every way a person can need another person...he _needs_ her. 

Instead of answering her plea, he changes the topic. It’s massively difficult for him to do. It goes against every instinct he has, but he is pushing through this. For her. For _him_. She won’t admit it, but she needs him to fix this too. 

“I’ve been thinking about something you said,” he starts, staring at the top of her head. 

She looked away from him after her outburst and busied herself by nervously twisting her watch band, but as soon as he speaks she looks up and meets his eyes. 

“Oh?” She asks, sounding flat and defeated.

“You said you can’t go right back to the way things were...and pretend nothing happened,” Casey says, remembering the words as he speaks. Everything from that conversation is seared in his mind. Every pause, every stutter, every breath. 

“Yes,” she replies, a confused wrinkle appearing between her brows.

“I don’t want to pretend nothing happened, Sylvie. I don’t want to go back to the way things were before. I _want_ you.”

“Matt--”

“No, please, let me just...let me keep going, okay? I know I haven’t said much right recently but I think it’s because I’ve been trying too hard to think of the right thing to say. But screw having the right words. For once, I want to tell someone what I want and have them listen to me. I know I’ve blown it at least twice and you don’t owe me anything but please just hear me out?” 

He’d spoken in such a rush that by the end of it he was out of breath. He’s frantic for her to truly listen. He watches her closely as she processes his words. Her posture relaxes and her face softens -- a mix of sympathy and anxiety. She nods and that’s all the confirmation he needs to continue.

“I know you think Gabby will always be an issue but I don’t think that’s true. I just don’t. I haven’t thought of anyone but you in _months_. You’ve been the only person occupying my mind. I get that I’m confusing you, but I’m confused too. I mean, I don’t know what you expect me to do about any of this. You—you were right, okay? There is no regardless of Gabby but what I don’t understand is what she has to do with you and me. I can’t pretend I never knew her and I don’t think you can either. She’s a part of who I’ve become — a part of my past. That’s a fact that can’t be rewritten.” 

He stops and takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and match them with words. It’s no simple task for him. It never is. When he was an alderman he could prepare his remarks. With his incident reports he has time to get the wording perfect. But _speaking_ , off the cuff, has never been his strength.

“And, as hard as this may be for you to hear, I don’t want to rewrite it or forget it. Gabby and I went through a lot together. She was there for me during some of my darkest times and I’ll always be grateful to her for that. But just because I’ll always care about her doesn’t mean I’m in love with her. That night you said, you always knew I was still in love with her. But you couldn’t know that because I’m _not_. I haven’t been for some time.”

He gulps when he finishes and pulls in a long breath. There, he said it. Everything he’d been thinking since that question left her lips the other night was sitting in the ambulance between them. Maybe he only succeeded in pushing her away, but at least he’d spoken his truth. 

Afraid of her reaction, he looks down at his hands, balls them into fists, and then shoves them in his pockets. He feels her eyes on him, but it takes her a long time to respond. Or maybe it just feels that way. He can’t tell anymore.

“I never wanted you to forget her, Matt.”

Surprised, his head jerks up so he can search her eyes. She’s telling the truth, he can see it.

“I don’t want you to ignore any part of your past,” she continues. “That’s not what I meant by there being no regardless of Gabby.”

“It isn’t?”

Well, now he’s definitely lost.

“No, she’s a part of who I am now too. I wouldn’t trade the days I spent riding with her in 61 for anything,” Sylvie tells him. “I don’t expect you to pretend she never meant anything to you. That’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” He asks. Despite himself, he feels hope bubbling up and easing the tension in his chest.

He misunderstood. If he misunderstood then maybe the problem isn’t as complicated as he thinks it is.

“I want an answer to my original question,” she insists. “If Gabby came back and asked you to leave would you go with her? You can say you’re not in love with her but when I asked you that question you didn’t seem so sure.”

He’s not going to bother with anymore excuses or reasons. She’s right. He wasn’t and his answer reflected that. The question surprised him and he’d said the only answer that came to mind. Even to him, his answer didn’t really make sense.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he replies. “And I haven’t. She’s asked me to, twice. I told you. I haven’t talked to her or thought about her in a really long time. It’s only been you, Sylvie. For a long time now, it’s only been you.”

The silence is oppressive. He gave her an answer and this time it’s a real answer as well as a truthful one. He expects some sort of reaction from her but what he gets is the same frown she’s been wearing since this conversation started.

“That’s the answer I hoped for,” she admits. “So, why don’t I feel any better?”

It would help if she helped him understand why that question was so important. He would think his answer would be obvious. If he wanted to be with Gabby he would be. If he were still in love with Gabby, an ocean wouldn’t stop him. Hell, a moving truck didn’t stop him from getting to Sylvie nearly a week ago. Can’t she see what that means?

“I don’t know,” he replies, eyes watering once again.

He has a feeling the problem isn’t really her question or his answer. He has seen fear and heartbreak in Sylvie’s eyes before. He knows what that looks like. Right now, he’s still seeing both.

The question that she thought would address her concerns, didn’t.

“Maybe if you would _tell me_ what it is you're afraid of instead of asking me about hypotheticals?” He asks, trying to be helpful.

“A hypothetical feels a lot safer than the other options,” she tells him, biting her lip with a furrowed brow. “And you really can’t tell what I’m worried about? Matt, it’s right there in my question.”

He might. But he misunderstood her before and he doesn’t want to risk doing that again. He wants her to spell it out for him. He wants to get it plainly out in the open so he can refute it and she’ll _know_. Most importantly, he’ll know. He’ll be confident in what exactly needs fixing. He’s good at fixing things.

But he has to understand the problem first.

“I know you’re scared, Sylvie. I am too. I don’t want to lose you. But if we don’t get to the heart of the matter then we can’t resolve it. If we can’t resolve it then I might lose you anyway. So, please, _talk to me_.”

Those words seem to do it. He knows the power of those words. They’ve used them on each other several times before. It always drags the issue to the forefront.

Her posture sags as if she’s finally letting the wall she built to separate them collapse. Her back and her head rest against the ambo. Her eyes find his.

Four blue eyes, all glistening with unshed tears.

“I still need you to be honest. Even if you know it might hurt me,” she declares.

He swallows and nods. “I’m always honest with you. You know that.”

She lets a wry scoff, one corner of her mouth tugging upward. “Yeah, I do.” She breathes deeply, air rattling as she exhales. She’s visibly shoring up her emotional strength. A second later, she rips off the proverbial band-aid.

“Am I a placeholder until Gabby comes back?”

“What?” He asks, genuinely surprised.

“Is Gabby out of sight and out of mind? Or is it actually over? Because I can’t be your distraction, Matt. I can deal with Gabby’s shadow hanging over me at 51 but I cannot deal with it hanging over whatever I have with you. I—I can’t be with you and be afraid of having the rug pulled out from under me.” The questions are rattled off in quick succession, as if she’s been holding them in for years — and maybe she has. It’s entirely possible. “I don’t need you to say you don’t care about her. I know you always will. I will too. But I do need to know that you’d choose _me_ in the same way that I would choose _you_.”

The tears in her voice are very nearly the end of him.

This is what she’s been scared of this whole time? That he might ditch her the second Gabby glances his way again? Sure, given what happened November before last he can understand that but if she’d simply told him what was bothering her a week ago this all might have been a lot easier. For both of them.

“I would never do that to you.”

“How can you be so sure of that now when before you said—“

“I didn’t know that was the question I was answering!” He says, voice raising in frustration. God, he wishes he could take back that I don’t know. If only so she’d stop throwing it in his face. “Sylvie, you have to know that I—“

The words die in his throat as the bells sound. He groans and rubs a hand across his forehead as a call for Truck echoes through the house.

He opens the ambo doors and steps out, turning to face her when his feet hit the app floor, and stopping to make sure he holds her gaze. “We’re finishing this later. I’m not done.”

He watches her throat bob in a thick swallow before she gives him a weak nod. “Later,” she agrees.

He sprints for 81 and manages to look back over his shoulder only once. Given the conversation that was interrupted, he thinks that’s pretty impressive.

******

Of course the bells go off right as she laid herself practically bare in front of him.

They’ve got horrible luck with those damn bells.

Matt said a lot of things in the back of that ambo but she’s not sure what to do with any of it until she finds out what he was planning to say next. She did learn a couple of new things: he misunderstood her question and he’s already turned down offers to leave with Gabby _twice_.

He’s had plenty of opportunity and prompting to go after her and hasn’t. He’s chosen 51 and Chicago over Gabby every time. It helps. She feels confident he won’t run off at the drop of a hat.

But it still doesn’t tell her what she needs to know.

Does he want Sylvie simply because she’s there? Does he wish, deep down, that he was still with Gabby? Is she how he bides his time until Gabby decides Chicago is her home after all?

If Sylvie lets herself love him it will be a fierce, unconditional, and abiding love. The unnamed emotion she feels (because she refuses to name it) already is most of those things. If she lets herself feel that for him will he be capable of returning it with equal intensity?

She refuses to be loved in half-measures. She deserves someone who will pour as much energy into her as she does into them.

She wants that person to be Matt Casey and she’s terrified it isn’t.

“Hey, if it isn’t Commander Brett!” Joe exclaims, grinning broadly.

Severide’s brow wrinkles and he glances between them in confusion. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Brett says with a forced smile as she hurriedly approaches Joe and loops her arm through his. “Come with me,” she says as she drags him toward the turn out room. 

Once the door is closed behind him she rounds on him with a scolding finger. “Who told? And _what_ did they tell you?”

“Kylie told me, and all she said was that the new Field Chief is gonna start grooming you for AC. Is it a secret?”

“Kylie?” Sylvie asks, face pinching in a bewildered expression. “How did Kylie— _Mackey_. That sneaky little brat.” 

The ‘women of 51’ they’d said. She’d given her a loophole! Dammit.

Cruz snorts and smirks. “Sounds like Mackey.”

“Look, can you just keep that to yourself for now?” She asks.

“Why?” 

“Because it may not actually happen and I don't want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

Joe gives her a knowing, extremely brotherly, glare. “Uh-uh, this isn’t about us here at 51. This is about you. _You_ don’t want to get your hopes up.”

She blushes in embarrassment and huffs. “Can you blame me? I haven’t exactly gotten the things I want lately.”

He quirks a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. “Is this about the weirdness between you and Casey?”

“And Julie, and Foster, Amelia and Scott moving away, _Otis_ —It’s about my entire life, Joe. I’ve lost too much so forgive me if I’m not entirely trusting of new opportunities right now,” she snaps.

Joe rears back a step with wide startled eyes and tiny sad grin. “Damn. How long have you been holding that in?”

She rubs the back of her neck and pushes back against her hand to knead the fatigue in her muscles. “I’m not sure. For nearly a year I’d guess.”

Her words replay in her head and her entire body goes very still. _Not entirely trusting_. Well, shit.

Matt had fumbled his first and second attempts to talk to her. That was true. But the third time…

The third time was as close to perfect as it could ever be and still she doubted him. He’d never lied to her before so why did she think he would now? He’d lived without Gabby for nearly three years and never once mentioned going after her or trying to get her back. Not to her anyway.

She’s afraid. She’ll admit it. But keeping up the wall she’s built won’t help them. It won’t make her less afraid. Dwelling on Matt’s original answer when, today alone, he’d given her so many words to replace them with wasn’t going to help them either.

She needs to let go of his old answers and listen with fresh ears. She needs to let herself trust him — completely. With no preconceived ideas or assumptions.

“I’m sorry, Cruz,” Sylvie tells him with a tired sigh. “It’s been a long day and there’s a lot going on—“

“Hey, I get it. We all need to vent. We may not be roomies anymore but we’re still roomdogs. I’m here for venting anytime you need it, Brett,” Cruz promises.

“What did I do to be lucky enough to have a friend like you?” Sylvie asks as she hugs him tightly.

He returns her hug with a soft chuckle. “You dumped me.”

She laughs and smacks his shoulder as she lets him go. “Uh, no, _you_ dumped me. Or have you forgotten that?”

He rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. “Only to head off you dumping me.”

“You still got there first. It counts.”

The bells go off again, this time with a call for 61.

“That’s my cue,” Sylvie says with a tired sigh. “Do me a favor and keep the commander stuff to yourself until I get back? If I’m telling anyone then I should start with Boden.”

“Deal,” Cruz says as he swiftly bumps her fist with his. “Go. Stay safe and kick ass.”

“Always,” Sylvie answers with a confident smirk.

Joe laughs loudly as he follows her out of the turn out room. “And people think you’re modest. If only they really knew you.”

The call turned out to require multiple ambos and multiple trips from the scene to Med. They were there for hours dealing with burns and smoke inhalation along with stubborn firefighters.

One of which turned out to be Lieutenant Grainger.

“Brett,” he says as she steps out of the ambo from their third run to Med. “I came by 51 earlier—“

She smiles politely and nods. “I heard. Casey gave me your card.”

“Yeah, right,” he says, narrowing his eyes on her. “There’s something going on there, isn’t there? Between you and the Captain?”

She sighs heavily and bites her bottom lip. “I don’t know yet. But I didn’t say anything about it. How did you…?”

“The guy was polite to me but he looked tense like he was ready to tear into something or someone at any moment,” Grainger replies with a shrug. “Believe me, I know what jealousy looks like and that guy was jealous — even if he tried not to show it.”

“Oh,” she replies, blushing furiously.

“Listen, if whatever is going on with him is the real deal then you need to work it out, Brett,” Grainger warns her. “I don’t know the particulars and I don’t need to. I just...I know you’ll regret it if you don’t. And with what we do day in and day out, we can’t afford regrets. You know?”

“Yeah,” she replies quietly — thinking of Matt dangling off that aerial ladder last week. “I do know.”

“Whatever you end up doing,” Grainger says with a friendly smile. “It was great to meet you, Sylvie Brett.”

She nods and beams brightly at him. “Yeah, you too.”

The rest of the call moves quickly after that. She and Mackey are directed to other victims as soon as Grainger walks away and end up making two more trips to Med before all the victims are cleared from the scene.

She’s exhausted when they leave Med for the last time. They pull back into 51 and the first thing she sees is Truck 81 nestled into its usual spot. Her exhaustion fades, replaced by anticipation and nerves. It’s the first time in a week or so that she hasn’t felt overwhelmingly gloomy at the thought of being face to face with Matt.

Grainger’s reminder about their line of work not affording them regrets was timely. He was right. If she doesn’t truly _try_ to understand Matt’s side of things or trust that he knows what he feels then she’ll regret it. Missing out on loving Matt — by not trying with him at all — could potentially be worse than eventually losing him. She’d always wonder, always feel as if she’d missed out on something wonderful. Could she live with that?

 _No_. No, she couldn’t.

Finding Matt will have to wait, though. She’s starving.

They’d left just before dinner and now it’s nearly ten. She hasn’t eaten since she’d scarfed down an early lunch before the construction site call at eleven that morning.

She walks into the common room to find Ritter sitting at the long table, sorting through some sort of stack of paperwork, and then Matt sitting at the round table while filling out his report.

She makes a beeline for the coffee maker, hoping the coffee will at least ward off the ache in her stomach while she decides what to eat.

“There’s plates in the fridge for you and Mackey,” Matt says, glancing up at her from the table.

“Oh,” she says in surprise. A grateful smile spreads across her face and she nods. “Thank you.”

She pulls both her and Mackey’s plates out of the fridge just as Mackey walks into the room. They reheat their plates in tired silence. 

Sylvie bumps her shoulder against Mackeys. “You told Kylie?”

“You _said_ the women of 51,” Gianna replies with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, Kylie told Joe so now I have to tell Boden before anyone else finds out,” Sylvie says with a stern quirked brow.

Mackey looks unapologetic, her smirk growing into a full smile. “Oops?”

As Mackey walks away with her food, Sylvie shakes her head at her. She _really is_ a little brat — which means she fits in perfectly at 51.

She sits down at the round table next to Matt, clearing her throat to get his attention. He immediately pulls his eyes from his unfinished report to meet hers.

“I have to talk to Boden and write up my report,” Sylvie says, tugging at her watchband. “But afterward, can we talk? You know, finish our conversation from earlier?”

“Yes, of course,” he answers, looking eager and earnest all at once. “Just come find me when you’re ready. I’m about to go back to my quarters and finish this,” he says as he waves a hand over his paperwork. “I just wanted to make sure no one took your plate by accident this time so I stayed out here till you got back.”

Oh god, he is the _sweetest_ man she has ever met. An intense wave of yearning washes over her. She wants him more than she’s wanted anyone before. Why does their situation have to be so messy? Why does his ex have to hover over them like a dreary rain cloud and how do they get rid of it?

She _wants_ to get rid of it. They deserve a chance — a _real_ chance. 

Her hand finds his on the table and squeezes gently. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She feels his hand squeeze hers in return as he speaks. “I mean that. _Anytime_ you need anything, I’m there.”

“I know,” she replies, smiling faintly. “I’d do the same for you.”

She lets go of his hand to finish eating and a few minutes later Matt gathers his papers before walking out of the room, tossing her an encouraging smile over his shoulder.

She finishes dinner, trying not to spend the entire time thinking of Matt. When she’s done, she does her dishes and sets off for Boden’s office.

She knocks on the open door, finding Boden and Severide chatting casually.

“Hey, Chief, you got a second?” She asks.

“Sure. Come on in,” he says, waving her inside. 

“Hey, Severide,” Brett greets as Kelly heads for the door.

“Hey,” he replies. “I’m assuming this about that thing Joe mentioned earlier?”

She nods. “I would explain but I want to talk to the Chief first.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ve got reports to finish anyway.” He waves and walks out of the office, setting off toward the bunkroom from the bullpen. 

Sylvie shuts the door behind him and then sits down across from Boden.

“So, what’s this about, Brett? Everything okay?” He asks.

“Everything’s great,” she assures him. “Or I think it is. Do you know Chief Stone at all?”

“Some,” Boden answers. “Herrmann knows him better. He’s very quiet. Shows up, does his job well, and goes home. Never known him to care much for politics or be too concerned with his reputation. I like him. Why?”

“He’s offered to help prepare me for a promotion,” Sylvie informs him. “He wants me to start training at the Academy first, but the next step after that, I’m guessing, is the exam.”

Boden smiles. A full, _rare_ , Boden smile. “Then I like him a hell of a lot more. Should have talked to Hatcher about that myself a long time ago. Glad he’s doing what I neglected to do.”

“Chief?” She asks, taken aback by his statement. 

She doesn’t know what she’s asking him, honestly. But his statement requires some sort of response and that’s the best she can manage in the face of her shock.

“You’re exceptional at your job, Brett. I know early on I worried about you becoming overly invested in your calls. We talked about that on many occasions, but over the years you proved something remarkable to me,” Boden tells her. He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles warmly, appearing almost paternal. 

“I did?”

“With the right person in the right job, you don’t have to drop off and walk away every single time. You’ve shown me that it’s possible to wear your heart on your sleeve and still make the tough calls and process the hard losses. You know yourself and what you’re capable of and I’ve learned to trust your instincts,” he explains. “It’s why I never worried about placing Mackey here at 51. She’s green, but I knew she’d have you to walk her through the tough calls and to teach her how to keep a cool, calm head. I’m not surprised Stone sees that too.”

Her eyes are watering with joyful tears. It’s not the first time they’ve watered recently but it certainly is more gratifying than the last.

“Thank you, Chief. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“You’re bound for great things, Brett,” Boden states with a firm nod. “You’re long overdue for recognition.”

******

“Hey,” Severide greets as he leans against Casey’s open doorway.

“Hey,” he mutters as he tries to focus on his report. He wants to make sure he finishes it before Sylvie finds him to talk.

“Brett say anything to you about a promotion?” Severide asks, curiously.

His hand stills mid sentence and he leans back in his chair to look over Kelly. “What? No. Why?”

“Cruz called her Commander earlier,” Kelly says with a shrug. “She got weird about it, pulled him aside, and when she was done he wouldn’t tell me anything. Now she’s in Boden’s office with the door closed.”

“That would take months, at least, though,” Matt tells him thoughtfully. “There’s an exam for AC. She’d have to take it.”

“Unless it’s meritorious, like a certain sanctimonious prick I know,” Kelly replies, with a pointed glance and a shit-eating grin. “Didn’t Chief put her name in the mix for a commendation after that call?”

“Yeah, secretly, so she couldn’t tell him not to do it,” Casey answers with a small grin. “You think instead of a commendation they want to give her a promotion?”

He shrugs again and Matt is overwhelmed with the urge to punch him. He brings him this bit of gossip and then offers him no further insight. His best friend is a jackass.

“She _does_ have an exemplary record,” Matt says, more to himself than Severide. “She helped take down that juvenile detention facility last year too. Not to mention the numerous times she’s been in a life threatening situation—“

“Like that gang hitter that stalked her that one time. Or when Lullo’s guys nabbed her and Mills while on the job—“

“Yeah, I was around. I remember,” he interrupts sharply. 

Matt grits his teeth and fists his hands. He does not need a reminder that her job was dangerous long before Halleck. He knew that. Somehow now, though, that knowledge and all those past instances hit him differently.

“If she gets promoted, she won’t be stationed here anymore,” Severide tells him. “She’ll be behind a desk at headquarters.”

Shit. He’s right.

And with their relationship as awkward as it is now, would he even see Sylvie off shift? If he couldn’t repair the damage he’d done and they stay distant colleagues as they have been for the last week...what would happen? He’d catch a glimpse of her on a call every now then or see her across the room at Molly’s once or twice a week?

No more hovering on the app floor waiting for any sign of 61 or making sure she eats between calls or seeking out her worried crystal blue gaze before running into a dangerous situation. No more guarantee that even if things stay heartbreaking and strange at least he’d still be near her — at least he could still watch her back.

If she gets promoted and he doesn’t sort this out then...they’re done.

Sylvie’s voice saying those very words to him floats to the forefront of his memory. Her hand was on his cheek, but all he felt was the latex of her gloves. Her eyes were on his face but they were hard and distant. She was standing in front him but still thousands of miles away.

They can’t be done. Not like _this_. Not without even trying to find out what they could be!

He knows he told himself to let her go and move on, but the idea of not having her in his life at all is a non-starter. He needs her.

If she is leaving 51 then he needs to know he’ll see her again — as often as possible. She deserves a promotion. He would never deny her that. But she’s become essential to his life and he’ll be damned if he lets her walk away from what they have without a fight.

This _one time_ with this _one person_ he is not going to let go and move on.

He can’t.

There is no moving on from Sylvie Brett.

“You okay, man?” Severide asks with a worried glance.

Casey nods. “Fine.”

And he is, surprisingly. Earlier in the ambo he’d been terrified to try and fight for her, but now…

But now he feels assured. Confident.

Resolute.

He deserves to ask for his own happiness. And Sylvie was right. She deserves to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d choose her — that she’s his first and only choice. Maybe that hasn’t always been the case, but it is now.

And he’s beginning to believe it always will be.

It’s time to tell her the truth. It’s time to stop implying how he feels and _say it_.

******

After meeting with Boden, Sylvie went back to the ambo to fill out her report. It was a long complicated call and they’d gone back and forth for hours so recalling the details takes time.

By the time she finishes and finds Matt in his quarters it’s nearly midnight. She worries he might be asleep, but as she steps inside the bunkroom she can see his desk lamp still on in his quarters.

The door is cracked open so she lets herself in and closes it behind her. “Hey.”

He looks up and smiles fondly at her. “Hey.” He turns away from his desk and motions to his bunk. “Have a seat.”

It’s been seven hours since their conversation in the back of the ambo and neither of them know exactly how to pick it back up again.

She looks down at her hands and bites her bottom lip. The awkwardness is palpable. She’s been looking forward to this since getting back nearly two hours ago but all of her momentum seems to have died. She needs to find that energy she had on the ambo ride back to 51.

“If I’d realized what you were asking me my answer wouldn’t have been so damn stupid,” Matt says softly.

Her head jerks up and her eyes crash into his.

“You’re the only person I’ve been thinking about, Sylvie. You’re the only person I want to think about. I would never let the rug be pulled out from under you. And Gabby isn’t _just_ out of sight, out of mind.”

“Then what is she?” Sylvie asks, anxiously holding her breath.

“History,” he answers, holding her gaze. “She’s my past and I’ll always care about her. I don’t regret what we had. I learned a lot about myself while I was with her. But I don’t want to keep repeating history over and over again. She and I gave it our best shot and it wasn’t meant to be. I’m not looking to try again.”

Her shoulders relax as she exhales. Closing her eyes she replays his words and a hopeful smile tugs at one side of her lips. “You’re not still in love with her.”

He runs a nervous hand through his hair, causing part of it to stick out in the front, and then rubs the back of his neck. His eyes drift from hers for a moment and then come back. When they do, they look more determined than ever.

“Kinda hard to be in love with her when I’m in love with you.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, just shy of a gasp. “What?”

Did he say what she thinks he said? He couldn’t have, could he?

“Sylvie,” Matt says, his voice softening as he leans forward in his desk chair. “I chose you before you ever asked the question. I just...didn’t realize it. Not until you asked me to give you space and walked away from me. It forced me to think about what would happen if you weren’t in my life which hurt enough as it was and then Grainger came along. The thought of watching you be happy with someone else _knowing_ it could have been me—“

His emotions become evident in his voice as he cuts off his own sentence. His tone is thick and sorrowful.

“All I want is for you to be happy,” he says, after he’s pulled himself together. “I meant that, still do, and if that’s with someone else...okay. But I’m not just gonna lay down and give up. I’m _not_ letting this or you go. Because, god dammit, I think _I_ can make you happy. I want to try. _Please_ let me try.”

For the second time that night, her eyes fill with tears of joy. Only in her dreams had he said anything remotely close to that. And, yes, real Matt is a little clumsier than dream Matt but…

It’s perfect.

It’s real and wonderful and exceeded every possible way she imagined this could happen.

He wants her. He’s choosing her.

The entire time things had been changing with Matt there’d been a weight on her shoulders. It knotted her muscles and pushed her down. The thrill and adrenaline she would normally feel when she felt a connection with someone was replaced with fear. It had been stealing more and more of her happiness every day. It’s why she had to ask him that question. It would have kept pressing on her until she could no longer stand.

But with that speech the weight vanishes.

She’s known what she felt for him all this time but she was too afraid to name it. Now that terrifying four letter word is echoing so loudly in her head that she nearly misses Matt’s next words.

“I had to tell you before you leave us for headquarters. I couldn’t let you leave 51 without honestly telling you how I feel, but you don’t have to respond right now.”

What? Leave 51?

“Headquarters?” She asks in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Your...your promotion?” He says, though it comes out like a question. “Severide said he heard Joe call you commander and then saw you in Boden’s office…”

She presses her lips together to keep from laughing. Oh, poor Matt. He’s been in here for an hour at least thinking she’s imminently leaving 51. (Because of course he would. Thinking back on what she knows of him he’s had an awful lot of people leave him. And with that thought her internal laughter is gone.)

“I’m not getting a promotion,” she tells him. “Not yet anyway. Severide shouldn’t have said anything until I had a chance to explain it to him. Chief Stone wants to start grooming me for it but that’s months, possibly _years_ away. I told Mackey about it; who is apparently as bad at secrets as I am because she told Kylie who then told Joe. I’m not going anywhere, Matt.”

Casey stands up from his chair, pulls her to her feet, and then wraps his arms around her smiling in relief. “Good! I mean—not that you don’t deserve a promotion because you do! I would miss you, that’s all. Not that that’s a reason for you not to get a promotion—You know what? I’m gonna stop now.”

Her rolling laugh is muffled against his shoulder and neck as they hug. “Good idea.”

He moves to pull away but she holds onto him tighter.

“Don’t,” she requests. “This is nice.”

She feels him relax against her as he melts into the embrace.

“Yeah, it is,” he replies, one hand rubbing up and down the curve of her spine. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I missed you.”

Oh, this is too much. It can’t be real. He’s in love with her? She spent all this time thinking he couldn’t possibly feel the way she did. She’s never been happier to be wrong.

She cranes her neck to meet his eyes and gives him a teary affectionate smile. “I’m in love with you too, Matt. I tried not to be, but no matter what I did I couldn’t help it. You were too good to me and I couldn’t resist. This past week of putting space between us hurt like hell. I don’t want to do that ever again.”

“You won’t have to,” he promises. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Not even if you tell me to. That’s how invested I am.”

She chuckles at him. “So invested you refuse to be noble?”

“Exactly,” he replies with a grin. His eyes slide downward to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “One second.”

She raises her brows at him in a silent question as he steps away from her. The rest of the firehouse is asleep, except for Gallo and Ritter on night watch in the common room. But, despite this, Casey pulls down the shades.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says in confusion. “Everyone’s asleep and we’re only talking.”

He tilts his head to the left with a wicked smirk. “Are we, though? Because there’s something else I’ve been wanting to do again for quite a few days now—“

“We’re at work!” She says, pretending to be scandalized as his arms circle her waist.

“Yeah, so?” He asks. “Like you’ve never made out with anyone in the house before.”

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

It’s the truth. Kyle kept things very... _sweet_ between them so there was no way that would have happened. She was too new to 51 while she and Joe were dating and didn’t want to risk getting in trouble. And Antonio was hardly ever at the firehouse long enough for a chat, let alone a makeout session.

“Really? Well, let’s change that.”

She laughs as Matt swoops in for a kiss. They smile into it as their lips slant against each other flawlessly. This kiss starts just as tenderly as it did the first time. Slow, searching kisses with his hand occasionally coming up to caress her cheek or tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Her arms are around him with her hands on his back. She trails one of them upward until it rests at the nape of his neck where her fingers can dip into his soft, short hair.

A low noise sounds in his throat. It’s something between a grunt and a moan. In his kiss she feels relief, hope, gratitude, and so many other things. It fills her up with light and love and chases away the loneliness and fear she’s been living with for so long.

She didn’t know anyone’s kisses could do that. God, she’s so completely in love with him.

He backs her up toward the desk as his hands move down her neck, over her shoulders, and then down her sides. They land on her ass, pulling her tighter against him and then boosting her up.

She lets out a soft squeak as he sets her down on the desk and steps in between her legs. Through all of that his lips never once left hers. He’s kissing her as if his life depends upon it and holding her as if he’s afraid she might slip away at any moment. She’s rapidly forgetting where they are or why they’re so very clothed.

Too many barriers. There are far too many layers of fabric between her skin and his. They’re on the same page it seems because as she’s pondering this problem, his hand slips between them and begins pulling at the zipper tab on her jacket. He tugs it down and then pushes the jacket off her arms, revealing the gray short sleeved t-shirt underneath.

His calloused fingers trace soft lines down the length of her bare arms and she shudders against him. He grins against her lips and then kisses the corner of her mouth, continuing downward until he reaches the pulse point on her neck.

His tongue flicks over it and she arches into it. The sensation causes goosebumps to rise all over her body and her eyes to open as a gasp escapes her lips.

Her eyes opening is all it takes for her to remember where they are.

 _Work_. The Firehouse.

Matt’s pressing himself flush against her. She can feel just how ready and willing he is and, judging by the warmth quickly building between her legs, they’re about five minutes away from taking this too far.

She wants him too but she doesn’t want the _first_ time to be a quickie in his quarters.

“Matt,” she rasps, running her fingers through his hair and gently tugging to get his attention.

“Yeah,” he mutters as he lifts his head from her neck. “Too much. You’re right.”

She didn’t have to say it for him to understand. How is that possible?

He rests his brow against hers as they catch their breath and calm down. “Breakfast after shift?” He asks, smiling brightly.

It’s lovely to see his smile again after seeing him in constant conflict these last few days. She runs the backs of her knuckles over his flushed cheeks and nods. “I’d love that. And then after that, maybe…”

“Maybe?” He asks, smile turning into a roguish grin.

“Maybe you could come over to mine. Finish what we started,” she suggests.

“Follow through is very important,” he states, eyes taking on a mischievous gleam.

She tries her best not to giggle like a teenager in love but she can’t help it. The bright tinkling sound escapes her before she can stop it. “It is,” she agrees.

“Okay, so breakfast and then your place,” he confirms. “Should we call it a date?”

She nods and gives him a quick chaste kiss to celebrate. “We should. Our _first_ date, in fact.”

She feels one of his hands on her neck. The other reaches up to comb through her hair.

He releases a contented sigh. The sound matches his expression. He looks peaceful — and years younger. For once she thinks he doesn’t look as if he carries the weight of the world on his very sturdy shoulders. His eyes are brighter than normal too and when they meet hers they convince her everything is as it should be. 

All is right in the world.

“Finally,” he says, leaning down to kiss her one more time. 


End file.
